


Let Down Your Hair

by RedEris



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:18:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedEris/pseuds/RedEris
Summary: Aloy sees something in Avad she hadn't noticed before.





	Let Down Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place post-canon, in a hypothetical situation in which Aloy has been pursuing more information about the remaining rogue AIs, and has found a willing confidant for her burden of knowledge in Sun-King Avad.
> 
> This fic was inspired by the beautiful art of Kelly Mclarnon on Tumblr here: http://kellymclarnon.tumblr.com/post/158990977099/some-horizon-zero-dawn-fan-art-love-this-game

Dusk was falling over the City of the Sun as Aloy jogged through the inner gates of the palace. Towards Sunfall, the sky shaded from pale orange through pink and purple, and the fields to the eastern side of the mesa lay already in night. It meant little enough to Aloy, who had spent the last weeks in an ancient bunker, scanning through ancient files and tinkering at all hours of the day and night. She didn’t even know what hour it had been that morning when another piece of the puzzle had clicked into place, and she’d felt the sudden burning need to tell someone. 

To tell Avad. The one person who had always asked to know more. The one who had never shied away from the knowledge she had gained, no matter how terrible. And who struggled, like her, to understand what the knowledge meant, not for its own sake, but for the people.

She waved to acknowledge the salute of the guards--they knew by now not to question the unprecedented access to the king enjoyed by the Nora huntress. The only reason she didn’t have standing quarters here was because she kept refusing them.

Avad would not be in his audience seat at this hour, but he also was no longer in the great dining hall. For a moment she was stumped, and unreasonably frustrated at it.

Outside of the hall, she recognized Avad’s steward.

“Oh good! You’ll know. Where is Avad? I’ve got news.”

The steward wrinkled his nose at her informality. “His Radiance has retired to his chambers for the night. It is far too late for--”

“I’m sure he’ll want to hear this. Which way?”

The man resigned himself. Aloy knew she had a reputation for impatience and bullheadedness. She made sure to keep it current, in fact. “I will be glad to guide you, if you will only allow me to announce your presence properly.”

She’d never been to Avad’s personal chambers before, and stared with undisguised interest around the outer sitting room. She marveled at the intricately carved wood, the painted tile and beautiful patterned rugs. She wondered if these chambers were traditional, and if Avad went to sleep in the midst of the finery his father had amassed. This much luxury didn’t really seem like him.

At last the steward stopped in front a guarded archway and held up a hand. In the spirit of fairness, Aloy allowed the man to finish announcing her name before she shouldered past. The titles were made-up nonsense anyway, and so didn’t count.

“I know where the metal flowers came--” 

Aloy stuttered to a stop.

Avad smiled, his brown eyes warm and calm as always. When she failed to finish her sentence, he spoke. “Welcome back, Aloy. Is there something I can help you with? Please, have a seat.”

He looked the same as he always had--smoothly handsome, his chest bare, dressed in loose pants and a light vest, facial hair closely cropped--but his hair--his _hair_.

She’d never seen it. She’d never seen him without the elaborate, encompassing regalia of the Sun King, heavy and imposing. She’d never paid it much mind, never cared much that he was a king, never felt that ‘king’ meant anything that truly mattered. But now, his black hair fell soft and glossy in fat waves over his forehead, cropped short on the sides and longer on top, and somehow it changed everything. 

She realized that despite it all, what she’d been seeing was simultaneously more than just a man and less--a figurehead, a throne, looking out over the Sundom serenely from high above. Even as they’d grown closer in long conversations, even as she’d bared her soul to him in ways that no one else seemed quite able or willing to process, she’d failed in some way to see under that headdress. To see the man who wore it.

Avad angled his head quizzically. “Aloy? Are you alright?”

She shook herself. “Of course. The metal flowers. They must be Demeter. You remember I told you about the poetry in the code?” And Avad signaled for the steward to bring water, and Aloy sat on the cushion he’d indicated, settling in for another long conversation.


End file.
